


won't stop running till we reach the sun

by candybeat



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 10:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3688971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candybeat/pseuds/candybeat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a series of semi-related drabbles of miller’s life with monty green.</p>
            </blockquote>





	won't stop running till we reach the sun

When Miller was on the ark, they taught him how the Earth had seasons: winter, spring, summer, and fall. There’s a different between learning about it, though, and actually experiencing it. This weather that they’re experiencing (the biting wind and early setting of the sun) can only be described as winter and _it’s fucking cold_. 

 

He used to volunteer for the night shifts for guard duty, but there is no way in hell he is volunteering for guard duty now in this weather. For once, Miller is glad his dad is chief guard; this is the one time he doesn’t hesitate in using his father’s name to get what he wants: the morning shifts. Which is why he’s currently sleeping in his (semi-) warm bed, with his boyfriend Monty Green. 

 

It’s nice. 

 

Monty’s cuddly and it’s hard to get out of bed some mornings, because Monty's got an arm wrapped around miller’s waist. Like today, for example. For someone who claims to lack arm strength, Monty’s got a tight grip on him. It’s kinda nice considering how warm it feels, kind of like how sunshine feels on a cold morning. Another perk: because the difference between their heights is only about two or three inches, Miller gets to stare at Monty’s face, without being caught then feeling embarrassed at getting caught, while his feet are tangled with Monty’s.

 

Except today, Miller has to pee and he’s struggling to get out of Monty’s grip without waking him up. Miller feels for Monty’s hand and tries to gently lift it from his body.

 

Immediately, he can hear Monty grumble in his sleep and cling tighter to him.

 

Miller uses his other hand to touch Monty’s head, “Monty, let me go pee.” And he tries to rise, but Monty keeps trying to drag him back down. “Monty,” Miller says, “just let me go for thirty seconds, tops.”

 

Monty’s reply is to shake his head and whine, “but Nate, it’s cold.” Miller groans, thinking _fuck me, why does Monty have to make everything difficult by being so cute????_

 

But Miller is determined to pee. He boops Monty’s nose, which causes Monty to take remove the arm that was clinging on to Miller so he can swat Miller’s hand away from his face. Now that Miller is free, he rolls gracefully off the bed and lands on the floor. He looks back at Monty, who’s frowning with his eyes closed and is trying to roll himself into a burrito to keep warm.

 

Feeling incredibly fond, Miller leaves his room with a smile on his face.

 

* * *

 

 

Miller’s learned that once Monty starts working on a project, he tends to forget about the passage of time. He’ll either work on a project till the sun rises or fall asleep on his worktable in the Engineering lab. Because of this, it’s become a routine for Miller to pick Monty up, so they can both eat dinner.

 

Miller has done it enough times that now, he’s even included in Wick’s teasing. A sign of affection from Wick, Monty explains. Miller doesn’t even have to knock at the lab anymore, because they just leave it wide open now for him.

 

When Miller gets there though, Wick is already there, standing by the door. Wick greets him, a serious expression on his face, “Nathan. I see you’re here to take my son out to dinner.” Raven, who’s inside still tinkering with something, just rolls her eyes.

 

Miller doesn’t know how to reply to that, but his face twists at the name, “My dad only calls me Nathan when he’s mad at me. Just call me Miller.”

 

Wick laughs, “Right, but my son Monty gets to call you _Nate_ —“ Whatever else Wick was going to say is interrupted by Monty who shoves a dirty piece of cloth in Wick’s face.

 

“Stop referring to me as your son, weirdo.” Monty says, pushing Wick away, so he can greet Miller. “Hi, Nate.”

 

“Hey,” Miller says, as Monty reaches up to give him a kiss. He can hear Wick pretending to puke in the background, but Monty only smiles against Miller’s lips.

 

When Monty pulls away, his cheeks are pink, but his grin is wide. “Ignore him. He’s been making so many jokes about me growing up too fast.”

 

Miller snorts, “That’s because he’s ancient.”

 

Raven and Monty laugh, while Wick scoffs, “You come into my house, kiss my son, insult me—“

 

Raven waves them off, “He’ll never shut up, so just go on, we’ll see you later.”

 

“Bye Raven!” Monty says, as Miller nods. Raven watches as Monty intertwines his fingers with Miller’s, proceeding to swing their hands together as he rambles on about what he did today.

 

Wick wipes a fake tear off his face, “I hope he brings our son back before midnight.”

 

“Shut up, Wick.”

 

* * *

 

 

On Bellamy’s birthday, Monty produces enough moonshine to get all of them (sans the adults) drunk. Miller, along with Bellamy though, only drinks a cup or two; it’s much more fun watching everybody else walking around drunk. Besides, somebody has to be sober enough to take care of Monty, who Miller has no doubt is going to be _so wasted._ Harper is surely helping him get there. Clarke, from what Miller has seen tonight, will probably only encourage him.

 

Hopefully, Monty will be sleepy enough, that all Miller has to do is carry him back to bed. Miller crosses his fingers.

 

“He’s good for you,” Bellamy comments, which drags him out of his thoughts.

 

Leave it to Bellamy to be embarrassing. “I’m not drunk enough to have a heart-to-heart with you, Bellamy.”

 

Bellamy laughs, “What’s the point of having booze if you’re not gonna drink it?”

 

“Somebody has to be responsible for Monty tonight.”

 

“I’m surprised he hasn’t gotten you drunk.” Bellamy says, referring to Monty who just took a shot and is being cheered on by Harper and Clarke.

 

“Harper and Clarke got him before he could, which is for best.” Miller shrugs.

 

It’s quiet for a while, and it’s nice. This is what Miller likes, when he’s hanging out with Bellamy. The comfortable silence permeates the air between them, and it’s not awkward at all.

 

They can hear Monty’s, Harper’s, and Clarke’s laughter from a distance, and Bellamy comments, “You’re good for him too.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“I was really worried about him for a time, because of what happened at Mount Weather. It didn’t seem like he would bounce back from what we’ve done. But I’m glad that he’s smiling again.”

 

Miller feels warm all of a sudden and wants to blame it on the alcohol, but there’s no use lying to Bellamy about it when he points out the flush on Miller’s cheeks.

 

Well, Miller’s glad he’s smiling too.

 

At some point, Monty and Clarke drunkenly crash their quiet space, and Clarke manages to drag Bellamy to where a group of people are playing spin the bottle. Clarke kisses Monty’s cheek goodbye, while Bellamy winks at Miller when he sees Monty attempting to sit on Miller’s lap.

 

“Here, here,” Miller says, positioning Monty so he’s straddling Miller’s lap. “How much did you drink?”

 

“So much,” Monty giggles, “so much.” Monty feels himself swaying, so to balance himself, he places his hands on Miller’s shoulders.

 

Miller wants to frown because Monty’s going to be so grumpy tomorrow when he has a hangover, but he smiles, because, well, who can resist smiling in the face of a giggly Monty?

 

“Did you even drink at all, Nate?” Monty says, slow and mumbled.

 

“I drank some.” Miller points to the cup, sitting next to him on the ground.

 

Monty pouts, “You should drink some more. I worked really hard to make it.”

 

“I know you did, but one of us has to be sober enough to remind you of all the silly things you did tonight.” Miller says, like he’s talking to a child.

 

“That assumes that I’ll be regretting tonight, but there will be no regrets.” And then Monty proceeds to steal Miller’s drink and downs it in one go.

 

Miller chuckles, “Okay, babe. I’ll make sure to remind you that tomorrow morning when—“

 

Monty interrupts him by squeezing his cheeks together, eyes narrowed, “Did you just call me ‘babe?’”

 

“You don’t like it?” Miller says, after prying Monty’s hands off his face, “I’ll guess I’ll call you ‘honey’ instead.”

 

Monty pouted, “I don’t like that either. Just call me Monty.”

 

Miller shrugged, “I don’t know, I think ‘sweetheart’ works better.”

 

“If you call me anything but Monty, I’m breaking up with you.” Monty threatens, but it lacks any bite because Monty doesn’t even sound angry.

 

“Alright, alright, Monty,” Miller grins. Monty looks pleased. “But would you really break up with me over a pet name?”

 

“Depends.”

 

“On what?”

 

“How cute you look that day versus how bad the pet name is.” Monty waves a hand, “I have to do some cost-benefit analysis, first, before I can tell you my answer.”

 

“I see how it is.” Miller says, amused.

 

“Yep, I am only here for your face.” And then Monty whispers, “and the perks.”

 

“And what are the perks to dating me?”

 

“Well, first, I get to kiss you whenever I want,” Monty starts and then proceeds to kiss Miller, “ second, your bed is warmer than Harper’s. Third, I really like having dinner with your dad. Fourth…” Monty trails off, “I guess there are only three perks. Hmm.”

 

“Good thing you really like me, huh?”

 

“Sadly, I really, really, really, really, really, really like you. And you’re really, really, really, really, hot.” Monty says, out of breath at the end of it.

 

“I feel so fortunate.”

 

Monty giggles and then rests his head at the crook of Miller’s neck. “It’s nice being drunk like this,” he murmurs, “feels warm, brain too numb to think about nightmares…”

 

At that, Miller doesn’t know what to say just as he never does when Monty wakes up from his nightmares, so he does the only thing he can do. He strokes Monty’s hair and holds him.

 

Monty presses a soft kiss against his neck, “I like this. Does anybody know you’re this cuddly?” But then Monty pulls back and stares at him resolutely, “actually, you better not be cuddling with anybody else.”

 

Miller tries to hide his grin, “Are you _green_ with jealousy, Green?”

 

“You’re ridiculous,” Monty groans, “How long have you been waiting to use that?”

 

Miller laughs, “Too long. Glad I’m not the only one, though.”

 

“What?” Monty says, “Feeling jealous? When was this? Of who?”

 

“Jasper and Harper. During Mount Weather with Jasper, then the first few weeks back with Harper.”

 

“Oh,” Monty says, thoughtful, trying to remember if Miller showed any signs. “I can’t tell the difference. Although, Harper did mention you looked grumpier than usual.”

 

“That’s because Harper was being a dick. We would be talking and then she would slip in the fact that she was sharing a tent with you. And then, make a comment how it could be me sharing a tent with you, if I wasn’t so grumpy all the time.” Miller scoffed, “She also made numerous comments about how my game is weak.”

 

Monty looks delighted at this new information. He pats Miller on the shoulder, “There, there. I’m sure your game is very strong.”

 

“Oh, you’re sure?” Miller says, his hands going to Monty’s sides.

 

“Oh, yeah, totally.” Monty says, grinning, implying he means the opposite.

 

Miller shakes his head, “You’re gonna regret saying that, Green,” then proceeds to tickle the hell out of Monty.

 

Monty shrieks, laughing loud, trying to move away, but failing.

 

From a distance, Harper and Clarke smile.

 

“They’re disgustingly cute,” Harper says.

 

Clarke nods, “It makes me wanna puke.”

 

Harper laughs.

 

* * *

 

Murphy approaches him during guard duty and says, “I’m sorry Miller, but you’ve hit your smile limit of the day. You cannot smile anymore today,” then proceeds to dodge Miller’s hand as it comes to smack him in the head.

 

“I wasn’t even smiling.” Miller says, crossing his arms. “And even if I was, what’s wrong with that?”

 

Murphy grins, crooked in a way that makes Miller want to hit him, “It’s just that you used to look like you had a stick up your ass all the time. But now, it seems that you’ve finally pulled it out and have been sticking something else in, namely, Green’s dick—“

 

This time, Miller really socks him in the jaw. As Murphy cradles his jaw, Miller does not look amused. “Shut the fuck up, Murphy.”

 

But Murphy just shrugs, “It was worth it.” He’s lost all the fucks there are to give. So he continues speaking, “Seriously though, you’re like staring at a point in a distance and smiling. It’s creeping me out.”

 

“So what?” Miller snaps, “I’m happy. There’s nothing weird about that.”

 

“You’re in love, that’s what.” Murphy grins, “And probably getting laid a lot,” but at Miller’s lack of reaction and lack of eye contact, Murphy backtracks, “Or not. You and Green haven’t done it yet, huh?”

 

For some reason unknown to Murphy, Miller just sighs, “We’ll get there when we get there. Besides, neither of us is ready for that, anyway.”

 

And to Miller’s surprise, he gets none of the teasing he expected from Murphy. Just a shrug, “That’s a good reason.”

 

They spend the rest of guard duty in companionable silence.

 

* * *

 

 

Miller tries to read a book. It’s something that he did a lot when he was a kid, and then it had been the only thing to do at Mount Weather aside from playing cards and eating cake. Now, Miller finds himself wanting to read again. There aren’t many books around, but Bellamy seems to have a knack for finding them. Miller doesn’t ask where he finds it; he just says thanks.

 

The key word, however, is _tries._ It’s hard to read a book when Monty keeps distracting him.

 

“You said you were going to take a nap,” Miller says, closing his book and placing it on the floor beside his bed.

 

“Yes,” Monty says, trying to find the proper position to lie on the bed. He rolls around and before Miller can warn him, he falls of the bed.

 

Miller laughs, “What are you trying to do?”

 

Monty huffs, climbing back on the bed, “The proper response, Nathan, is to ask me if I was okay. I could have broken a bone or have a concussion.”

 

“You look fine.” Miller says, moving into a sitting position. “Are you even hurt anywhere?”

 

“Other than my pride?” Monty frowns, touching his nose, “I kinda landed face first.”

 

Miller frowns and gently touches his nose, “Do you think it’s broken?”

 

“Nah. I’ll ask Clarke to look at it later, though.” Monty says, poking his nose to see if it really is fine.

 

Suddenly, Monty smiles, “You know what you should do about it though?”

 

“What?” Miller asks, knowing that he’ll probably do whatever it is.

 

“You should kiss it to make it better,” Monty says, shameless.

 

“How do you even say things like that without getting embarrassed? God,” Miller says, feeling his cheeks flush. Nevertheless, he takes Monty’s face in his hands, watches as Monty’s eyes flutter close, and kisses Monty’s nose.

 

Miller definitely feels embarrassed, but the happiness evident in Monty’s face when he pulls away makes everything worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> i enjoyed writing murphy a lot. also, #lovemontygreen2k15
> 
> talk to me about minty: fuckingephemeral.tumblr.com


End file.
